


Third Act

by Comedienne



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6820675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedienne/pseuds/Comedienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The drama club had made it sound so easy. We don’t even need you to be in the show, Yachi. We’ll just make you an understudy. Just help us out. Please. I know you’re busy with managing volleyball. We don’t need your time. We just need one more name on a piece of paper. To satisfy the formalities. Show up on the day. Wear the production t-shirt. That’s it.</p><p>That wasn't it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That's it

The drama club had made it sound so easy. We don’t even need you to be in the show, Yachi. We’ll just make you an understudy. Just help us out. Please. I know you’re busy with managing volleyball. We don’t need your time. We just need one more name on a piece of paper. To satisfy the formalities. Show up on the day. Wear the production t-shirt. That’s it.

She was third understudy to the female lead. She wasn’t asked to rehearsals. She didn’t even have a copy of the script. The club budget paid for her t-shirt. They told her she could keep it. She wore it to volleyball trainings when she didn’t get round to doing the laundry. She wore it with slouchy pants on the weekends. While she cleaned the house. While she studied. She wore it to bed sometimes. The lettering started to crack.

One death in the family. One sudden move. One badly broken leg.

She was the lead.

Takeda-sensei waved off her apologies with a kind smile. Shimizu-senpai picked up the slack without fanfare. She wouldn’t miss all the club events. It was just for a little while. We’ll miss you. Do us proud. How exciting Yachi! Not villager B anymore, huh? She thought even Tsukishima looked a little impressed. More likely it was probably something like surprise. Later she’d realise it was vague concern, a hint of apprehension. Maybe it was on her behalf. Maybe he just had foresight of what heroine usually meant.

Behind the glare on his lenses, Yachi couldn’t see his eyes flick to Yamaguchi.

They did a read-through of the first act at her first rehearsal. Afterward, they pulled her aside to fit her for a costume. The props girl frowned at the measuring tape in her fingers. Yachi tried on three dresses. Even the smallest of them sagged. Meet with the sewing club tomorrow. Just a bit of adjustment. These dresses were meant for second and third years, after all. Don’t worry about it. The sewing club’s Riko is a great seamstress. Riko does all the drama club tailoring.

If you have one, wear a push-up bra tomorrow.

That night, Yachi took to her script with highlighter. Green for her dialogue. Pink for cues. Yellow for stage direction. There wasn’t as much dialogue as she would have expected from a lead role. Yeah, she would be on stage for most scenes, but just to react. She didn’t have so many lines to memorise. She could do this. Act 1. Some responses to obvious cues. Act 2. A brief monologue.

Act 3.

The yellow highlighter slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.


	2. Thinking

Yachi does wear a push-up bra to her meeting with Riko from the sewing club. She’d gotten it on her last shopping trip with her aunt. The woman had insisted. Every girl should have one, Hitoka. Maybe you can seduce one of those volley boys with it. Her spluttering had garnered a chuckle from the shop assistant. Riko was chuckling too. Probably because she was like 90% padding and only 10% actual boob. You’ll look so pretty Yachi-san. I bet the volleyball club will be smitten. You have such beautiful skin. Yeah, beautiful skin and no boobs. Such appeal.

Yachi tries not to think about the third act.

At the second read-through session, Yachi came very quickly to the conclusion that her co-star was an asshole. He was a third year, and a good actor sure, and suited to his role as the hero. He had the height. He had the swoopy hair. He had the deep voice. What he didn’t have was charm. Talented, but insufferable. He had no respect for the other club members and they had no respect for him. A hardworking first year caught underfoot had been soundly scolded for no reason at all. The first year had spouted bitter rhetoric in a hiss as he walked away from him. The club president too, had been under fire. They scowled over their undermined authority. The girls gave him a wide berth.

Yachi’s co-star was a menace.  
Yachi thinks about the third act.  
His name is Yukito and Yachi hates him.

But she hates him more when she overhears something she shouldn’t. The worst thing to come out of his mouth yet.

That little blondie, how do you think she’ll like my tongue down her throat?

The drama club wasn’t big. Of their members, not a one was blonde.  
Yachi thinks about the third act and she is scared.


	3. Yachi's First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chaste press of lips, dry aside from her tears, won’t suffice for the scene, but it’s a place to start, a place from which she can still run.

Yachi can’t get out of there fast enough. As soon as she’s out of sight, the tears start to fall. She still keeps running. Nobody’s following. She still runs.  
It’s Nishinoya that finds her. Tucked into herself in the club room. Knees up to her chin. Eyes red. Bloodshot. Twin trails of tears down her cheeks.  
Noya’s heart goes out to her. Sweet Yachi. Suga would be better at this. But she’s got Noya, and like hell he’s gonna not help her. What kind of senior would he be?

He lets her sob into his shoulder. She lets him pat her back in long, soothing strokes.  
Yachi tells him about Yukito. Yachi tells him about the third act. Yachi tells him what she heard. Noya growls. She has to drag Noya back to her side. Yachi tells him about the stupid production t-shirt and the stupid push-up-bra dress.  
Noya listens. Noya thinks.  
Yachi, say you’ll bite him. He tries anything, follow through. Noya’s jaw closes with a loud click, teeth bared.  
Yachi says she’ll try, but there’s more to it than that.

I don’t want to give my first kiss to a jerk like that.

Then don’t. Give it to somebody else.  
I don’t have anybody like that-  
Literally anyone from the club would gladly kiss you.

Noya says this because it’s true. But Noya also says this with Yamaguchi in mind, smitten, besotted Yamaguchi, who’s nice and truly deserving of Yachi’s heart, of romance, of a relationship.

And that’s why, when Yachi says: really?, Noya doesn’t say: yeah, ask Yamaguchi.  
Because Yamaguchi doesn’t deserve a frightened, desperate kiss. Yamaguchi doesn’t deserve a kiss that tastes like tears. Yamaguchi is so much better than being the next-best-thing to Yukito-the-ass.

And that’s why, when Yachi says: really?, Noya says: even me. Because Yachi is trying to kiss for the stage, and Yamaguchi deserves real.  
So Noya will gladly take the farce.

The scene calls for long. The scene calls for passionate.  
The chaste press of lips, dry aside from her tears, won’t suffice for the scene, but it’s a place to start, a place from which she can still run.  
She doesn’t. Noya wishes she would.  
They kiss, open mouthed, until they need to part for breath.  
Noya keeps his tongue resolutely behind his teeth.   
The tear-tracks on her cheeks smear under his hands. So gentle, because this is delicate, she is delicate and he will not let Yukito break her heart. Even so, he knows he’s crushed Yamaguchi’s heart, smashed it to bits, so he lets his fingernails dig into his palm like shards of it.

Noya doesn’t know whether he’s kind or cruel. All he knows for certain is that Yamaguchi is definitely going to deck him.

Noya is going to let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went to an interesting place. Kinda got away on me honestly.


	4. Just

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yachi's thoughts on her first kiss

In the moment between learning that Nishinoya would kiss her and when he actually does, Yachi considers what kissing Noya will be like.  
She pictures something fast and energetic and wild.  
The image dissipates like clearing smoke as his lips meet hers.  
His lips are dry, and starting to crack, but warm.  
They touch briefly to her own, which aren’t much better. She’s self-conscious of the roughness from biting at them when she’s nervous.   
Weren’t girls’ lips supposed to be soft?  
He mustn’t mind because he draws close to kiss her again, but this time his jaw rests slightly open and he doesn’t pull back. Without disconnecting, he presses in again with his mouth open.

Kissing Nishinoya isn’t at all how Yachi thought it would be.  
It’s slow and soft.  
There’s a pulse to it, an ebb and flow to how he moves against her.  
He’s languid, but Yachi’s tense.

It’s not bad; in fact, it’s nice, kissing Nishinoya, but just nice.  
There’s no heaving breath when they part.  
No pounding heart.  
When people talked about ‘just a kiss’, they were talking about this. This repeated meeting of lips. Just lips.

The pads of Noya’s thumbs are rough as they draw across the trails left by tears that are crusting on her cheeks.  
He holds her face so gently.  
He brushes hair from her face.

Noya is nice.

But just nice.


	5. Not afraid, afraid, not afraid, afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yachi's resolve against and Noya's confrontation of fear

Kissing Yukito is suffocating. There’s no gentle languidness. No ebb. No flow. He grips her, hauls her in. His grasp is so tight. His kiss is stifling. Harsh. Egocentric. She knows why people call it ‘sucking face’ now. It’s apt. He trying to devour her. Use her.  
Yachi’s not stupid. It’s domination.  
She’d threatened him, like Noya said to, laid down her ultimatum.  
His tongue gets anywhere near her throat, she cleaves it in fucking half.  
Well, she’d phrased it more politely than that, but after rehearsing the scene a few times it deserved some revising.  
And now he’s trying to prove something.  
What a dick.  
But she’ll stand by it.  
Because she can stand next to the volleyball team.  
Asahi is bigger. Daichi is stronger. Tanaka more ferocious. Even Tsukishima’s sneer has more bite.  
Yukito is just a brat. A prick. An oversized ego with lips.  
He uses tongue, he gets chomped on.

Noya knows he fully intended to let Yamaguchi punch him, but looking at his clenched, shaking fists is giving him second thoughts. Yamaguchi’s a lot bigger, a lot taller, than he’d really realised.  
And the kid is fuming.  
But as quick as he’d gotten mad.  
The anger is gone. Poof.  
And then tears. The kid’s crying. Oh shit. The ugly, blubbery kind of crying. Oh, he’s sobbing uncontrollably. Shit.  
What does he do?  
When did he become the guy people cry in front of?  
Heck, in Yamaguchi’s case, he made him cry. Since when does he make people cry? He’s 5-foot-tiny and about as intimidating as a hamster without some serious effort.

All Yamaguchi seems to have are aborted questions.  
How could-  
Why would-  
What-  
That seems to be where Yamaguchi’s thoughts settle. What. Just what.  
The ending to that question could be anything.  
What happened?  
What were you thinking?

What was it like?’  
Shit.  
He wanted to know. But he also really, really, didn’t.

He wanted to knock Noya’s teeth in.  
That is until Noya actually presented the option. In such a typical manner too.  
Yeah. Go on. Right in the kisser. Yamaguchi, come on. I’ve had it coming.  
And it’s all just so stupid. It’s all just so stupid.  
And then his fists are uncurling. And he’s laughing.  
Hysterical and blubbering, but laughing.

Noya looks vaguely horrified.

It’s only later, at the Tsukishima house, with his face pressed into the couch cushions, that he can actually ask a question.

What the fuck?


	6. High School Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akiteru had always waited for the day that Kei would come home and ask for advice about a girl.

Akiteru had always waited for the day that Kei would come home and ask for advice about a girl.  
It had never come.  
Instead, his brother is standing to the side looking flummoxed.  
It’s Yamaguchi Tadashi who has collapsed face first into the sofa of his childhood home. Yamaguchi is gesturing emphatically, bending his arms in ways that look like the joints should dislocate. Even smothered by cushions, the kid is rambling, though it is utterly unintelligible.  
He surfaces to say one thing.  
What the fuck even is my life, Tsukki?  
Then buries himself again with a poff sound and covers his head with his arms.  
Kei’s silent, but his expression screams help me.  
Akiteru is gentle when he interrupts this High School Moment with his gone-off-to-college presence.  
Yamaguchi? You okay there?  
His answer might have been words, but even as muffled sounds the sentiment was No, I Am Not.  
Abruptly, Yamaguchi pushes himself upright.

I should’ve punched him, he says. I should’ve put my fist into his stupid pointy little face.  
Kei folds his arms before speaking. You would have knocked him flat on his ass.  
Woah, woah. What’s this about punching?  
Besides, Kei continues, by the sounds, it’s that Yukito guy that’s looking for a fist in his face.  
Akiteru interrupts, nobody is getting a fist in their face. What’s going on? What’s this all about?

Yamaguchi lets out a long groan, ridiculously extended, too long. It’s stupid, he says, really stupid.  
Sounds like, if it’s getting you into fights.  
Kei jumps in, well, he hasn’t actually gotten into a fight. Not yet anyway.  
Please don’t get into fights, Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi turns to him. Akiteru is struck by how aggressive he looks.  
I make no promises.  
Yamaguchi pauses, not Nishinoya, I’m, I’m not gonna fight him. It just hurts. That, that he kissed Yachi.  
His expression turns sorrowful and slightly dewy-eyed, but then it hardens.  
Yukito though, Yamaguchi spits the name, him, I’m gonna break his fucking nose.  
Yamaguchi isn’t just angry.  
He’s disgusted.


	7. This Isn't Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi’s got all this fire in him over it. But ultimately he’s just sitting on it.

Akiteru decides that Yamaguchi is wrong. This isn’t stupid. Fighting with your teammates over a girl is stupid. He’s seen it. But Yamaguchi isn’t trying to split Nishinoya’s lip. It’s Yukito who’s in the firing line, someone Yamaguchi doesn’t even know. And it’s not jealousy that’s heating Yamaguchi’s blood. It’s concern for Yachi. It’s appalled outrage at Yukito’s intent. As if Yamaguchi would be the jealous type anyway.

But what can he do?

Yamaguchi’s got all this fire in him over it. But ultimately he’s just sitting on it. Which is kind of good, because he hasn’t done anything rash. But only because he hasn’t done anything.

He’s an explosion in a bottle.  
Corked with a combination of his meek demeanour and his innate kindness.  
But truly, it’s Yamaguchi’s good sense, the glass, the bottle itself, holding back an outburst.  
Yukito hasn’t actually done anything yet.  
At least nothing so reprehensible as to be asking for a punch to the face. From Yamaguchi specifically.  
Because technically, Yamaguchi isn’t yet properly implicated in this whole mess.  
He can’t call Jealous Boyfriend or anything like that. Can’t play the Concerned Brother. ‘Cause he’s not that either.

But Yukito is going to follow through.  
Because he truly embodies the role of the Entitled, Arrogant Asshole.  
Akiteru knows it. Can feel it thrum through every instinct.  
He can picture it.  
The frothing rage and a spray of glass.  
The blackening eye and the crooked, bleeding nose.  
The inevitable ban from club.

He could forewarn Yamaguchi of it.  
But would it really DO anything?  
Yamaguchi loves being a pinch server, but it’s a role applied sparingly.  
Would the threat of a ban mean much to someone who barely plays?  
Akiteru isn’t sure.  
But he has to diffuse this whole thing somehow.


End file.
